First Family, First Party

At my first italian families' home. It's weird, but not so bad. It's definitely uncomfortable though. The family is very nice and even though they speak little English, they do try. We use google translate a lot. The mom is sweet and very expressive. The dad just keeps asking if I'm ok. There are two brothers that keep telling me they are going to show me the dark side of Italy (the club scene), an older sister who smiles at me a lot, and the fourteen year old who is in the camp. They are so interested in me, America, and showing me their culture. The village, Ciazzgo, is small. You can ride your bike around it in about 5-10 minutes, but it's cute.

So yesterday was my first day here. We went to a festival in the piazza with another coworker, Lia, and her host family. It was cute like a little community festival in the states except instead of beer and BBQ it was espresso and pasta. Afterwards, I went to Lia's "sister" boyfriend's birthday party. Get this, the couples names' were Francesca and Francesco, and they we're the cutesy couple I have ever seen. All giggle and warm and loving. You couldn't help but enjoy being with them. It was contagious. Their friends were so warm and welcoming, speaking English at the party, calling everyone bella or bello, lots of hugs and the three kisses to say hello and goodbye. My first Italian party. Who would of thought. It was pretty calm, we drank wine sat outside and they talked and joked with each other. Even if I couldn't understand their words, I could get the jest of what they were saying with body language. My goodnesses do they love American culture. Surprising, I guess I take it for granted.